I Want A Friend For Christmas
by Night's Darkness
Summary: Christmas Coda to Tear-Filled Trails of Blood. Ianto's first good Christmas in a long time isn't quite the perfect experience one would hope for as his relationship with Michaela becomes more complicated. One-shot, set well before Series 1.


As the full title shows, this is a coda to Tear-Filled Trails of Blood. Recommend you read it first or else this will probably make no sense whatsoever. I decided to expand on certain memories and flashbacks with codas. It's also an apology to anyone waiting patiently for an update for the main fic. It's just stuck in a rut and won't move. Hopefully this'll help tide you over until I can get the characters to behave themselves on Tears.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Christmas Coda to Tear-Filled Trails of Blood**

**I want a Friend for Christmas**

_(22__nd__ December 2002)_

Ianto sat at a window table in the coffee shop, watching the snow fall unendingly from a heavy grey sky. It was perfect snow, that light, pure white mass of flakes that settled and stayed and blanketed sound and aroused a sense of stillness in the air that was almost as if the world had paused to rest and catch its breath. It almost felt like nothing bad could happen anywhere in the world.

Ianto snorted at his own lyrical thoughts. Bad things happened no matter the weather, and as for a break, forget it. He still had seven hours left to do here before he could return to his two-roomed flat, eat, sleep and get ready for another day of people constantly streaming in and out of the coffee shop. Glasgow city didn't stop bustling for anything it seemed. No amount of cold could slow down a Scott it seemed. Ianto's co-workers had tentatively teased him about his Welshy need for two pairs of gloves. Ianto didn't bother to point out that they were both thin and cheap and two were just about enough for any kind of protection.

No, it only really felt quiet and peaceful over at Torchwood House. Ianto was now spending almost more time there than anywhere. It was secluded and secure and Ianto liked feeling safe. He could take care of himself, he had been for a long time, but it was nice to be able to relax. And spending time with Michaela, who'd told him off for not wrapping up enough, always cheered him up. The Irish girl had grown on him, and he was finding it so easy to be himself around her –at least, to a degree. He still went out on certain nights to get fucked, and he'd never talk about that with her, but now he felt less inclined to doing it.

Ianto couldn't help but feel he would have liked her even if they hadn't met the way they did.

"Heya!"

Speak of the devil. Michaela grinned at him as she appeared at his side and emerged from several layers of scares and a hat. Ianto nodded in greeting,

"Hey."

Michaela set her coffee down and sat opposite him. "Brr! It's as cold as the Arctic today. Soon have polar bears come along, looking for baby seals and British passports."

One side of Ianto's lips quirked upwards in a smile.

"Would probably sort out that emigrant problem proper."

"I would tell you off for slagging emigrants if it weren't for the fact that you're Welsh."

"Is this a joke based on the fact that the word Welsh means 'foreigner'?"

"It is indeed." Michaela raised her coffee in a toast. Ianto chuckled, glancing down at his coffee. Then he looked up, swallowing a little nervously,

"So… how've you… any plans for Christmas?"

"Aside from ignoring my mother's drunk calls? Nah, not really –maybe get really drunk. You?"

"Oh my holiday plans are vast. First I thought I'd track down my estranged brother Owen. Then we'll kiss and make-up and spend Christmas Day together carolling from door to door. Then we'll go to the best restaurant in London and have a five course meal on the house. Then we'll go shoot Santa."

"Was with you until Santa got shot. I don't think that's fair to all the other embittered, resentful children who didn't get what they wanted."

"Sucks to be them." grunted Ianto. Michaela smiled indulgently.

"So, if you're doing nothing for Christmas except moping… d'you wanna spend it with me?"

Ianto felt his stomach churn in sick alarm. Was she serious?

"Really?"

"Yeah." Michaela shrugged, trying to look causal. "May as well sulk together."

"I… uh…"

"We can have loads of junk food. I'll raid Marks and Sparks, and Archie has a drinks cabinet that I can break into. Plus you can bring whatever you want. What'd you say?"

Ianto squirmed in his seat. Part of him was dying to say. But there was always a voice that begged and demanded caution in his mind.

But Ianto decided that Michaela had earned enough trust to risk his own sense of emotional safety.

"Ok. I'll go."

Michaela looked astonished, but covered it with a grin. Was he really that closed off? Ok, that was a dumb question.

"Really? You wanna?"

"Yeah. May as well spend the holidays with someone I like." Ianto tried not to blush as the words left his mouth before he could think.

Michaela went pink, but looked pleased. "You like me?"

Ianto shrugged, not looking up from his own coffee. "Sure. Why not?"

Michaela sighed softly.

'_Coward.'_ thought Ianto at himself.

_(25__th__ December 2002)_

Ianto shifted on his feet, feeling nervous about this for some reason. Taking in a deep breath, he knocked on the big oak door, which swung open automatically for him. Entering the grand hall, he looked around for Michaela, knowing that she could really be anywhere in the building. How they hid all the cameras and technology that he suspected was here was beyond him.

A loud yap made him jump, and he turned left in time to be hit in the shins by a sandy cannonball. Then it started scampering around his feet.

"Down Dubhtach, down!" he ordered, making his voice firm, like Michaela had shown him. The dog calmed down at once and seemed happy to pant at him. "Where's Michaela, girl?"

"Shalom!" Michaela called, sliding down the banisters and jumping off with little grace. "You made it!" She was wearing a green jumper, black jeans and left her hair loose about her shoulders. She looked… warm and soft. Ianto flushed at the internal description.

"Yeah… here, got you something." Ianto held out his gift, feeling his face redden even more.

Michaela beamed at him, her whole face lighting up. "Aw, thanks! What I got you is upstairs. C'mon."

Ianto followed her, saying, "Isn't it a bit inappropriate to say Shalom on Christmas?" as he shrugged off his coat. He'd gotten a taxi to the House, but he was still frozen.

"Not as inappropriate as saying it on Easter Sunday would be."

"I… guess." Ianto shook his head as they entered the living room. Well, it served as one anyway. "Nice tree."

"Cheers! Took forever to decorate, especially since a cheeky pup decided she was a cat and kept batting at the lights."

The tree was about a head taller than Ianto and well shaped. The lights were bright, cheerful, the ornaments glittered, spinning gently in the wind of the open door. The smell of pin needles permeated the air, mixing with winter fruits oil. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, the news was on on the plasma screen above the mantle piece and there was an alcohol cabinet left wide open. Michaela crouched and picked up a parcel, wrapped in a cheerful red paper.

"Here ye go! Happy Christmas."

Ianto took it, blushing again. "Thank you. Happy Christmas." he added, feeling too big and very awkward.

"Well, c'mon, open it!"

"You first." Ianto was too nervous about his gift to open hers. "Ok!" Michaela tore the wrapping off and laughed at the vodka. "Good idea. Need that tonight no doubt." Then she noticed the other, smaller present, wrapped in tissue paper. "What's this?"

Ianto wanted the earth to swallow him up as she unwrapped the tissue paper. Her eyes widened,

"Oh Ianto…"

"It's not fancy, or expensive, but I thought, since you like Celtic stuff and you're Irish enough as it is, you might want-" Ianto stopped himself before he said 'to have a little Welsh on you' or something equally stupid.

"It's lovely. Thank you." It was a small dragon made of metal, on black string. The single eye was green. Michaela smiled at him as she pulled it over her head and adjusted it to fit, tossing her hair free as it rested on her skin. Ianto blushed crimson.

"You're welcome. It's not much-"

"Just stop babbling and open my gift you dafto!"

Ianto did as he was told, smiling. There was a thick woolly red jumper, -"There's a rule you have to have one on this day!" wrapped around a canister of shaving cream, -"No more looking like a Geologist!"- And finally, an old, but empty, leather bound notebook and old fashioned pen. Ianto was entranced by the feel of the old leather under his fingertips, and the smoothness of the wooden quill.

"I dunno if you want to, but I thought you could keep it as a diary, and write stuff down, or whatever. I know it's not considered very manly to keep one, but that's because it's connected to love sick 13 year old girls. But, like, loads of great men documented their lives and, and you said you liked history and this book is about 200 years old, so I thought-"

"Just stop babbling and open the vodka, eh?" Ianto grinned, relieved to find he wasn't the only nervous one. Michaela did as he said, while he grabbed glass. "So where's Archie?"

"Off with family, his sister I think, and her kids and husband."

"Why do I have the feeling he's crazy Uncle Archie?"

"Probably." Michaela raised her glass, "Happy Christmas. Now lets get pissed."

"Cheers!"

They drank, and ate copious amounts of junk food, threw a ball around for Dubtach, sat through nativity movies and three versions of A Christmas Carol –one starring that younger Mitchell brother from Eastenders. By the time it was 3 pm, the vodka was gone and they were drinking Smirnoff's rum and cider, well on their way to drunk stupidity. It was then Michaela, who'd been sprawled on the ground staring up at the TV, sat bolt upright.

"Oh my god! I nearly forgot!" she shouted, voice a little slurred, "Archie left you a card."

"Huh?" Ianto snapped out of his stupor as a ghost stepped out of a TV on TV and Michaela crawled on hands and knees to rummage under the tree. She seemed to be having trouble finding the card amongst so much air under the tree. Ianto's eyes were automatically drawn to her bum, which was in his line of vision perfectly. He probably should look away, he thought, but found it took too much effort for his drunk brain to do. So he lay there, staring. After all, she was the one who kept wiggling her bum. And it wasn't for the articles that Ianto kept four porno magazines in his bag.

"Aha!! Got it!" Michaela waved the envelope in triumph and then dumped it in his lap. His name was written on it in big black letters. For some reason, Ianto felt very nervous about opening it. "Well? C'mon, open it!"

Ianto glanced at her. Her green eyes were bright and excited, she was swaying from side to side on her hands and knees, and she was grinning almost manically. She looked like a drunk, hyperactive child. Ianto grinned at the idea then tore open the envelope. Inside wasn't a card, but a note. It said, very simply,

**'Both of you get your bums in gears and head upstairs to the fourth floor.'**

Bewildered, and rather terrified about what Archie could mean by 'get in gear and go upstairs', Ianto handed Michaela the paper. She read it carefully, still swaying.

"The fourth floor? We don't use 'em! Ever. What would be in there?"

"How should I know?"

"C'mon, lets go find out."

It took her a minute to figure out how to stand, and another to remember the concept of balance. Ianto watched with some amusement. Despite his meagre pay, he still drank plenty, so he had a much higher tolerance than she did. No amount of Irish blood would help her here. Still Ianto wasn't totally steady on his feet as they headed for the stairs. Michaela started giggling halfway up and Ianto joined her, although they shushed each other as if they were sneaking around the house, despite being the only ones there.

Stumbling up the final flight, they found another note waiting for them.

**'Adults should be adults, kids should be kids and if I'm right you two are so drunk you can only qualify for the latter. So go into the third room and for the love of god leave your issues at the door.'**

"Not into his poetry and riddles, is he?"

"Not really."

As they went down the corridor, Michaela tripped on the carpet and Ianto caught her before she fell flat on her face. She giggled and looked up, bringing their faces so close they almost bashed noses. Michaela put an arm around his neck, smiling up at him. The feeling of her hand on the back of his neck made him shiver and he could smell the alcohol on her breath she was so close to him. Drunken eyes pierced his own, and Ianto wished his brain would switch back on and actually do something.

"You're always saving me, aren't ye Ianto? My knight in bedraggled denim armour!"

"Wow, I can't believe you managed to say bedraggled in one considering how pissed you are right now."

Michaela giggled, "It's the Gift of Gab! You can't shut an Irish person up! We never stop talking!"

"You are so drunk." laughed Ianto, trying to straighten them both up. Michaela tried to help, but she somehow ended up flush against him, her curves bumping his lean muscles. Ianto's mouth went dry. Michaela seemed to sense a change in mood, because she stopped giggling and after a moment, managed to stand up straight, pulling away from him.

"C'mon." she mumbled, turning away. Ianto followed her, wondering if he should say something. But when Michaela opened the door, all thoughts of awkwardness and nerves fled his mind.

"Oh… my… God!"

The room was pack with gifts. Ok, maybe that was an overstatement, but Ianto couldn't remember ever seeing this many gifts in one place. Michaela was clearly just as stunned as him.

The parcels were wrapped in either red or green paper, and they were divided as such. Ianto's name was on top of the green ones, Michaela's on the red.

The two of them edged into the room, neither sure what would happen. Then Michaela, emboldened by the drink, launched herself at the presents and started tearing the paper apart.

"Oh wow! It's a Game Boy Advanced!"

Ianto hesitated, wondering why the hell Archie would give him anything, then approached his pile. Grabbing one of the smaller parcels, he opened it tentatively and let out a laugh as he saw it was a Rubix cube. Another gift turned out to be a Game Boy Advanced –his was blue– and there were games. Ianto quickly caught Michaela's excitement and started tearing at the paper. There was a huge box of mechano too, and Ianto found a name stuck on the side by Archie. _'Babbage'_.

Ianto laughed. "Archie thinks I can build a probability machine!"

"A what?"

"A probability machine. It's the first computer ever invented."

"Archie wants you to make a model computer?"

"No. A working one."

"With mechano?" Michaela looked confused.

"Yup."

"How… y'know what? I'm too drunk to be bothered to ask." Michaela tossed some wrapping paper at Ianto and then started examining some Xbox games that had come with the consol she'd unwrapped.

Ianto grinned to himself as he unwrapped more Xbox games, some of which were alien hunting games, brilliant! He couldn't help but notice that most of the games were two players encouraged.

There was a paint gun –fully loaded he noticed and he also noticed Michaela got one too. He kept that near him as he found a mobile phone, with a sim card and number.

"What's your number?" Michaela demanded, scrambling over to him and pulling hers out. Ianto had never owned a mobile in his life, but he knew well how they worked. As it turned out, Archie had put Michaela's number in the phone already, and his own, and a few other emergency numbers. The fact that he had put his own number in made Ianto break into a sudden sweat.

"I don't get it. Why'd he do all this? What's he after?" he asked, his excitement draining away rapidly as he weighed the phone in his hand. Images were rising in his mind and he fought a shudder.

"What? Nothing. Why'd you ask?" Michaela sounded affronted.

"C'mon, no one does something like this for nothing."

"Archie would."

"Yeah, sure." Ianto's tone was sneeringly sarcastic. He felt like he'd been duped. Tricked. Then Michaela hit him on the arm.

"He would! He's been so good to me since I got here. He's been like a dad to me. Don't you dare try and make him into your bastard stepdad. Don't you dare!"

Michaela was nearly in tears, so upset by Ianto's accusation was she, so Ianto muttered an apology. But he couldn't enjoy the presents now.

Until he found a third note, amongst the pile.

**'Listen up Laddie. Not everyone's against you, and I'm not thick. I know you're probably all suspicious now, but give it a rest. I told you to leave your issues at the door. I dunno what they are exactly, I can guess, but I'm not against you. Now shoot that girl with paint or I'll have your guts for garters.'**

'_Well, that's succinct.'_ thought Ianto, impressed by Archie's frankness. He eyed his paint gun with a returning smile.

Maybe the Scotsman meant no harm. Maybe Michaela was right, and maybe he was overreacting. For the first time in a long while, Ianto felt willing to try and believe and trust.

~*~

Two hours later and Ianto was covered in paint from head to toe. So was Michaela. And Dubhtach. And… pretty much any room they'd run into.

"Ok! Ok enough!" cried Michaela from the bottom of the stairs, lowering her gun in peace. "I can't swallow any more paint. My tongue's all blue!"

Ianto, at the top of the stairs, groaned, but had to concede to her. Since she'd caught him in the eye, his vision was distinctly greeny. "Ok. Truce."

He joined her, flopping back to sit on the stairs. She sat beside him, dropping her gun to the floor. He slid his beside it. they both leaned back, breathing heavily, still giddy from laughing so much. Dubhtach sauntered over and collapsed on her side next to her mistress. Polkadotted colours made her look like something out of Barney the Dinosaur's show.

And now Ianto had that stupid opening song in his head.

Michaela interrupted it mercifully, by saying,

"Well, that was messy."

"Yeah."

"Archie can clean it up. He gave us the guns."

"Plus he told me to shoot you."

"Then he deserves the mess."

They fell into a comfy silence, and Ianto yawned.

Michaela nudged him with her shoulder, "C'mon, let's clean up and then lounge on the couch and stare at the TV mindlessly. Maybe we can manage the energy to watch The Snowman."

"I watched that with my brother when I was little. If you want me to sit through it you'd better get me more alcohol."

"Can be done. Now up we get. Gotta clean up."

They went down to the second floor, and like the first time Ianto had been there, he was given spare clothes and put in the same bathroom. He scrubbed away all the paint, wondering where Michaela was showering and if she was able to stay standing. That, of course, led to him imagining what she looked like in the shower. He shook himself, telling his brain to stop. It wasn't right to think things like that about his friend, especially since there was no way she'd be interested in him like that.

Ianto dried off and got dressed, eager to get drunk again.

He stomped down the stairs and back into the living room. Michaela joined him a few minutes later, her hair tied up in a wet ponytail. She found more vodka and they resumed drinking as The Snowman came on. Ianto drank half the bottle by the time that fucking song came on, so he didn't mind that Michaela sang along very off-key.

"I love that movie!" she cheered, swallowing a mouthful of whiskey –Ianto was hugging the vodka bottle and wouldn't give it up, so she'd taken the good stuff from the cabinet. "So fecking amazing!"

"So fucking depressing, 's what it is." muttered Ianto, gulping vodka like it was water.

"Oh stop. I love it, so don't ruin it."

"Rather the Santa one. Bloomin' Christmas an' all that."

"Ooooh! Yeah, that's aweseome. Love the idea of how Santa spends the rest of the year."

"I just like how 'e's all grumpy. Makes me laugh. Santa as a grumpy old fart. Like everyone else in this world."

"Not everyone is-"

"Everyone is. Everyone hates everything, no one cares about anyone else –makes you wonder if there's any point to anything." Ianto lifted the bottle to drink the last of the vodka. But it was yanked out of his hand and thrown across the room to crash against the wall. Ianto glared at Michaela, "What the fuck was that for?"

"If you drinking makes you so miserable and so con- con- contemptuous to everyone, and you label me as someone who doesn't care, then you don't get more drink!" Michaela was angry, but she sounded sulky. Her lips were formed into a pout. Ianto wanted to latch onto her lower lip with his teeth. He shook the desire off.

"C'n say whatever I want. You don't get to tell me what to do. No one does."

"You can't say no one cares! You don't know what other people are thinking!" Apparently anger was a good soberer for Michaela.

"Oh yeah?"

"Look at all the stuff Archie gave us, gave you."

"Hmph!"

"God, you're a grumpy goat when you want to be."

"Baaa." drawled Ianto. Then he leaned across her to get the whiskey. The scent of apples filled his nose and the idea of rubbing his head under her chin like a cat popped into his mind. He told his brain to stop making him into a horny idiot. Then he looked up at her face, an inch away from his. Her eyes were glassy and her cheek flushed from drink and annoyance.

Ianto couldn't look away, he felt too awkward as she stared back, looking confused. He groped for the glass of whiskey and lifted it up, not sure what he was going to do with it now. Finally, and with a wonderful obliviousness only too much drink can bring about, Michaela broke the strange silence.

"Well, if you're gonna steal my drink, at least lemme have a mouthful first."

Mouth going dry, Ianto brought the glass up and touched it to her lower lip, tilting it. the glass clicked against her teeth, and she used her tongue to help her slurp the alcohol up, managing a good mouthful before leaning her head back and swallowing. Ianto watched her throat ripple as the whiskey went down to her belly. Then she coughed and wiped her mouth. Ianto downed the rest at once, no idea what he was actually doing.

"You gonna get off me anytime soon boyo?"

Ianto pulled back at once, face flushing and he glared up at the TV. Michaela stretched, arching her back, letting out a satisfied grunt as she relaxed back. Then she heaved herself to her feet, staggering from side to side as she mumbled, "Xbox." Then she wandered out of the room.

Ianto stretched out on his back on the floor, running a hand through his hair and downing the rest of the glass. What the fuck was he doing? He mentally told his cock to stop fucking with his head. There was too much shit going on in both their heads for him to start making it worse by stupid hormones.

Michaela came back with the Xbox, dropping to her knees and opening the box, fumbling with the Xbox and wires. Then she twisted and dropped it all on Ianto's stomach.

"You set it up!" she ordered, grinning at him. Ianto narrowed his eyes,

"Why me?"

"'cause I don't wanna." Michaela buried her face in her arms, giggling.

"I don't wanna either." muttered Ianto, feeling grumpy.

"Do it!"

"Fine, fine."

It took Ianto over half an hour to figure it out. The fact that he kept taking mouthfuls of drink probably didn't help. Michaela watched him, lying on her stomach, the side of her head resting on her folded arms. Finally he cheered and spilled whiskey on the carpet.

"Got it!"

"Yay! Now play-play."

They played for hours, getting progressively worse and worse –Michaela had started to resort to just bashing her palm on the control. Suddenly she tipped forward and fell off the couch. Ianto grabbed her, but gravity was not his friend and he toppled too, landing on top of her giggling, his face pressed into her neck. Michaela laughed, holding her head and squirming underneath Ianto.

As they calmed down a little, and caught their breath, Ianto lifted his head, grinning at her, and shuffling so he wasn't crushing her. Michaela smiled at him, her face open and trusting.

She was pretty, Ianto realised. He leaned forward with half an intention of kissing her. Michaela sighed and closed her eyes, but rather than lean forward like Ianto expected, her head relaxed back. Ianto realised she'd fallen asleep.

Sighing in what was either disappointment, relief or both, Ianto dropped his head onto her shoulder. His arm curled around her waist and he allowed the drink to carry him to sleep.

~*~

Ianto's head was killing him when woke up, and as he tried to move, he realised his back was aching, he'd drooled onto his cheek and chin… and his hand was in a really inappropriate place. Ianto opened his eyes, grateful it was still fairly dark, and confirmed that his hand was resting on Michaela's breast. She was still asleep, thank God, and Ianto mentally chanted, '_Please don't wake up, Please don't wake up, Please don't wake up!_' as he lifted his hand and, now totally clueless about what to do with it, eventually dropped it at her side. This jolted her awake with a groan.

"Oh Christ, what truck hit me?"

Ianto chuckled, right in her ear, and Michaela jumped, opening her eyes to stare at him, surprised no doubt by his proximity. Ianto smiled sleepily at her, tightening his grip on her waist.

"Morning."

"Uh, hey."

"My head is killing me." Ianto informed her. Michaela relaxed a bit.

"Mine too. I see the appeal of abstinence."

"I don't."

Michaela smiled a little, then glanced down at his arm at her waist.

"Well, uh… this is cosy."

"Mmhm."

"Did we just fall asleep this way?"

"Think so."

"I see."

"You ok?"

"Yep! Fine, fine."

Ianto was too hungover to call her on the lie. But he did make a noise of protest when she sat up and put her back to the couch, leaning against it. Ianto rolled onto his back, and reached out a hand to curl his fingers around ankle, stroking with his thumb. He liked the feel of the soft hairs under the coarse thumbpad. Michaela was cradling her head and twitched when he touched her. After a minute of silence and stillness, she said,

"I should get up. Find painkillers if nothing els-"

Ianto didn't know why he did it, or why it had seemed like such a good idea. All he knew was he was comfy, warm, safe and hungover, and it was all because of her. So he sat up and leaned into her personal space, pressing his lips to hers. They were soft, and a little chapped as he pressed his own firmly to them.

Michaela went ridged.

The next thing Ianto knew, he was being shoved away and Michaela was scrambling away from him, looking horrified.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Ianto panicked, clambering to his feet, "I'm sorry, I thought-"

"You thought what? That you could fuck me? That I'd let you because you've been nice to me?"

"No, I-"

Michaela was too angry to listen. "Get out! Get the hell out of here!"

"Wait, please-"

"Get out, get out, _**get out**_!" she screamed, red-faced and terrified. Ianto, stumbling, left the room and ran out of the door. Michaela followed him and slammed the door behind him. Ianto ran all the way to the gates, trembling. He looked back at the manor and then vomited up everything in his stomach. Shaking even harder as cold sweat broke out over his body, he started to stagger back to the city, unsure if he should hate himself for doing something so stupid, or for letting her get under his skin in the first place.

* * *

Poor Ianto, never gets a break. There'll be a New Years Coda coming at some point, so don't worry, you'll find out exactly how this all links in to Tears and their relationship as it is there.

Night's Darkness


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